


When It's All Over

by kittensmctavish



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 07:24:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14051895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittensmctavish/pseuds/kittensmctavish
Summary: One night, Aaron Burr comes across a singularly interesting woman.(Original written and posted to tumblr December 15, 2017.)





	When It's All Over

**Author's Note:**

> The characters played by Leslie Odom Jr. and Daisy Ridley in Agatha Christie’s “Murder on the Orient Express” were paired up romantically in the book, and there were hints in the trailers that the same would be true of the film. With that in mind, pairing up their two more popular characters would not fucking leave my fucking mind. And if no one else was gonna write them together, I would.
> 
> (Please note: this was written BEFORE "The Last Jedi" was released. So there are no spoilers or references to that.)
> 
> Fic is cross-posted from my tumblr of the same name.

Aaron heard her first.

He’d been waiting to meet his usual companions – Hamilton, Laurens, Mulligan, Lafayette. He’d been early, as usual, waiting patiently, saving a table. Occasional rounds of cheers filled the space, for one reason or another (to becoming a father! To marriage! To alcohol!) But when the din died down, a sound he thought he’d imagined became clearer.

The sound of a woman’s voice. Loud. Calling for someone to get off. Followed by laughter and taunts from men. And then the all-too-familiar sounds of a scuffle.

Aaron was out the door of the tavern within the span of a heartbeat. He darted between the few people still in the streets towards the alley he knew was behind the tavern, towards the woman and men. He had no weapon on him, but he knew how to hold his own well enough in fisticuffs.

He turned the last corner to the alley, fists raised…

…and stopped. Dropped his fists.

Two men already laid on the ground, unconscious. Three other men surrounded a figure in the middle, one of them throwing a punch at their face. The woman, Aaron presumed, though dressed as a man, from what he could tell, and wielding some sort of quarterstaff. A quarterstaff which was brought up into the face of the man who’d thrown the punch, knocking him back; this gesture was repeated, and Aaron thought he heard bones crunch (the man’s nose broken, probably). The remaining two men grabbed at the figure to pull them back (her, definitely a her, now that Aaron had caught a glimpse of her face in the lamplight). As they tried to drag her back, she managed to kick the chest of the man who’d punched her, winding him to the point of unconsciousness, blood trickling from his nose. With a growl, the woman yanked herself away from the man who held her with a swing of her quarterstaff, knocking one of the men in the head. Much as she had earlier, she smashed the staff against their faces to throw them offguard. And when they were off balance enough, one final swing of the staff at their heads knocked them out.

She stood there for a moment, glancing around at her would-be assailants. Aaron presumed she was checking to make sure none of them would get back up. Not until she could get away. She hadn’t noticed his presence yet, so he used a moment to discreetly take in her appearance. Her hair back in an unusual hairstyle – three buns in a row on the back of her head, some wisps of hair loose around her face. Olive green breeches that covered her knees, leaving an expanse of her legs bare…though the high boots she wore helped to lessen the amount of exposed skin. And on top, a cream-colored tunic tinged with what appeared to be dust or sand. Over the tunic, an unusual grey jacket with a high collar and no sleeves. Her arms would have been completely bare were it not for the grey fabric strips that wound around her arms and covered her hands slightly. As it stood, the tops of her arms and part of her shoulders remained bared to the world.

With her hair pulled back in such a way, he could just make out some of the features of her face. Slightly tanned skin covered in freckles – not as prominent as Laurens’, but still noticeable. Her mouth, before pulled into a fierce snarl, was softer now, though still bearing a grimace.

One man stirred with a slight groan. She braced herself with her quarterstaff before the man simply turned his head and fell into unconsciousness again. Her posture relaxed, and she tucked her quarterstaff behind her back, a beige strap attached to the staff going over one shoulder. She then kicked the man in the head for good measure.

After a moment, she seemed to sense another set of eyes on her, because she turned her head to look at him. She began to reach back to draw her quarterstaff out when she halted. Stopped as though struck by something.

Aaron honestly felt the same way now that he had a good look at her face in the lamplight. At her eyes. Large and hazel and piercing…as though she could read him like a book…read into his mind or something.

She walked up to him, opening her mouth to speak.

“Pardon me.” Her voice was lower in pitch. A little hoarse. Captivating nonetheless. And meant for him, as she spoke to HIM. “Are you Aaron Burr, sir?”

He feared, for a moment, that she was a distant relative of Hamilton’s, but pushed the thought away quickly.

“Are you hurt?” was what he said in lieu of giving her an answer. “I heard the noise and thought you…”

“Oh…oh, no, I’m fine,” she said, glancing back at the unconscious men and shrugging. “Not the worst bunch I’ve ever dealt with so…but thank you.” She crossed her arms, one of her hands reaching up to rub at the bare skin of her arm.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“Oh…I’ll be fine, just…you know, desert planet, have to get acclimated to…sorry, what planet am I on?”

Her look of confusion must have mirrored hers because…what did she mean by “other planet”?

“Here, take my jacket,” he said, shrugging his black overcoat of and holding it out towards her.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment, taking her quarterstaff off in order to put the jacket on. Before Aaron could offer to help put the jacket on, or to hold her staff, she was taking care of it herself. She’d hold the staff in one hand and work one arm through a sleeve, then switch hands to repeat the same on the other side. Once the jacket was on, the quarterstaff went back over her shoulder.

“…it’s a little big,” she said, holding her hands up. Her fingers just barely peeked over the black fabric. Aaron couldn’t help but laugh. And she laughed too, her eyes crinkling up as her face broke into the most breathtaking smile…

“My apologies, Miss…”

“Oh! So sorry, where are my manners?” She stuck her hand out. “Rey. My name is Rey.”

It wasn’t until her hand was to his lips that she’d been poised to shake his hand…not for him to kiss it. Her skin was slightly rough, and chilled from the brisk New York air. She pulled her hand back just quick enough for it to still appear casual, and Aaron thought he saw a tinge of pink in her cheeks.

“Aaron Burr, at your service,” he said with a calm smile. “Shall we go indoors?” He offered her his arm. She stared at it for a moment.

“Yes, thank you,” she finally said, and seemed to realize what it was she was to do, slipping her arm through his. “…sorry, can you tell me where we are again?”

“New York City,” he said.

“Never heard of this planet,” she said with a slight frown.

“And where do you hail from?” he asked politely.

“Jakku.”

He hoped it wasn’t noticeable that his steps had faltered. But…he had no earthly idea where or what Jakku was.

Thankfully, they’d stepped into the tavern, where two pints were quickly obtained and a table in the corner was snagged before anyone else could sit down.

“I apologize in advance,” he said, sliding one of the mugs over to Rey. “It’s not the finest drink to offer anyone, much less a lady such as yourself. But it will help warm you up.” Rey rolled her eyes.

“I’m hardly a lady,” she said, taking a cautious sip. She shrugged. “No worse than the water on Jakku sometimes.”

“Where is Jakku, if you don’t mind my asking?” Aaron asked, drinking from his own mug.

“Western Reaches of the Inner Rim,” Rey said, looking around the tavern with curious eyes.

“And how did you come to find yourself in New York City?” Aaron asked. Rey looked back at him, then down. Not really at anything, more like she was pondering the question.

“I…I don’t really know…” she finally said, glancing up at hi, then back down quickly, as though afraid to give the answer. “I remember getting to Ahch-To…I remember meeting Luke and giving him his lightsaber…I remember…” She brought a hand to her head, as though suddenly plagued with an ache. “I don’t know…everything went all…and I heard your name and saw your face before…”

She looked back up at him, and gave him a little wry smile.

“I’m sorry, I’m not making any sense, am I?”

She wasn’t. Aaron had never heard of an Ahch-To or a lightsaber, and while the name Luke was familiar (if only for the Apostle), he didn’t personally know a Luke.

But she’d been through much in the little time he’d known her. So better to be kind. Talk less. Smile more.

And he did smile, what he hoped was a kind smile. A reassuring smile.

“You’ve had a bit of a night,” he said. “I rarely make sense myself when fatigued or following a battle.” Rey smiled a little at that, before frowning.

“Battle?” she said. “…is the war here? Did the First Order get here? Are you with the Resistance?”

Before Aaron could answer any of her questions – rather, before he could fathom what she meant – he heard cries of his name from four familiar voices.

Alexander Hamilton, John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan, and the Marquis de Lafayette came bounding over, mugs in their hands, ready to raise the first of many glasses to freedom.

“We can always count on you to save us a seat, Burr!” Mulligan said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Found yourself a lady at last, Burr?” Laurens teased as he glanced at Rey, who’d stiffened as her eyes darted from one man to the next, before landing on Lafayette as he picked up her hand to kiss it.

“Bonsoir, mademoiselle,” he practically purred.

“Marquis, leave her be,” Aaron said, almost too quickly. Rey, however, managed a smile and shifted her hand to shake Lafayette’s.

“Rey,” she introduced. “Pleasure to meet you.” Laurens was next, then Hercules, and (of course) finally…

“Alexander Hamilton.” Less an introduction, almost a boast of sorts. Aaron had to turn away to hide the smirk that resulted from Rey’s bewilderment…as though she should recognize his name and clearly didn’t.

“Burr, did you see the men in the alley behind the tavern?” Laurens said as everyone finally sat down around the table. “Don’t know what happened or what they did to deserve it but someone got them GOOD.”

“Think it was Redcoats?” Mulligan asked. Burr shrugged, glancing over at Rey. It wasn’t his place to tell, and he didn’t want more unnecessary attention on her than she wanted. She shrugged back.

“So has Burr given you his whole ‘talk less, smile more’ speech yet?” Hamilton asked Rey, leaning a bit closer to her.

“What?” Rey said, shifting her chair away from Hamilton.

“That’s his thing,” Hamilton said, gesturing towards Aaron before assuming a posture that Aaron was pretty sure he didn’t actually possess. “‘Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for. Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead’.”

His three companions laughed. Rey looked over at Aaron before looking back at Hamilton.

“Not a bad idea, that,” she said. “Par for the course where I grew up. You talk back, you either don’t eat, you get hurt, or you get killed. Smart, really.”

A silence fell as she drank from her mug. It seemed to take a moment for her to realize that they were all staring at her with looks of slight shock.

“What? It’s true.”

“…sorry, WHAT part of England did you grow up in?” Laurens asked.

“I…didn’t? I grew up on Jakku. Never heard of a planet called England.”

“Do you have family on Jakku?” Aaron asked quickly before any of his companions could ask her anything…less kind. She’d moved to pick up her mug but dropped it back on the table at the question.

“No…no family,” she said, and though she was trying to keep it out, Aaron could hear a bitter tone to her voice. “They left me there when I was young. Said they’d come back. Never did.” She glanced up at him and gave him a bitter smile.

“You’re an orphan?” Hamilton asked. Rey glanced over at him, her eyes icier than when she’d looked at Aaron.

“So who did you live with at this…Jakku?” Lafayette asked.

“No one,” Rey said, ignoring Hamilton. “Got by as a scavenger for Unkar Plutt.”

“A scavenger?” Mulligan asked.

“Dug through the desert for old ship parts, weapons, scrap, whatever I could find, tried to restore them into something salvageable, brought them to Plutt, and I’d get ration packs – how many, though…well, depended on how generous Plutt was feeling.” She took a drink.

“His bartering system wasn’t fair?”

“Not all the time, no.”

“Did you ever say anything to him?” Hamilton asked, indignant at her misfortune. She looked at him with an expression Aaron remembered Hamilton using on Samuel Seabury long ago.

“I said before – you spoke up, you didn’t get to eat,” Rey said. “You talked out of line to the wrong person, your food was gone, your pack was gone, or someone came charging at you with the intent to harm or kill.” Rey pulled the strap of her quarterstaff tighter around her arm. “You keep your head down, make sure you know how to fight, and get by day to day. That’s how it’s done on Jakku.”

Laurens looked from Rey to the quarterstaff on her back and back at her. He then looked in the direction of the alleyway. And Aaron could practically hear the click of everything coming together in his mind.

“So, those men we passed—”

“Not the worst lot I’ve ever come across,” Rey said, picking up her mug and downing the rest of its contents.

“…Burr, where did you FIND this girl?” Hamilton asked, halfway incredulous.

“The alleyway,” Rey said with a little snort. “I think he heard those men giving me a hard time and—”

“By the time I got there, it was clear she did not need my assistance,” Aaron finished. Rey’s smile grew and she laughed a little harder. Aaron decided it was a sound he would need more of in his life.

“So what brought you to New York City?” Lafayette asked. Rey’s laughter ebbed, and her smile fell.

“I don’t know…I honestly don’t know,” she said. There was so much weight to it that only Aaron understood more than his companions. And even then, he didn’t fully understand.

“You don’t know, as in, something about New York City just drew you to it?” Hamilton said, only slightly teasing.

“As in, I literally have no recollection of how I got here,” Rey said, her frustration seeping through. “I was in a completely different place, on a completely different planet, and the next thing I know, I’m here, and I don’t recognize anything about here. Names, places, people, anything. And I know that sounds ridiculous, but it’s the truth.”

Aaron watched the men exchange looks. For only a moment, though, before his eyes turned back to Rey. For the first time, she looked something akin to fright. Though he could tell she was trying not to show it. Something in him wanted to reach over and take her hand.

“Perhaps the general might know what to do,” he found himself saying instead. The looks he received from his companions – Hamilton, especially – were nigh incredulous.

“What general? Hux?” Rey asked, something resembling trepidation in her voice.

“General Washington,” Lafayette said. “A great man.”

“A good man?”

“As I said.”

“Great and good are not the same.” Rey had a point.

“A good man,” Aaron assured her. “A good general. At the least, he will find a place for you to stay while you are here.”

“Really, Burr? Where? On the battlegrounds with us?” Hamilton scoffed.

“If I can help in any way—” Rey began.

“It cannot hurt to speak with him,” Aaron said to Hamilton, words stressed. Hamilton rolled his eyes, but pushed himself away from the table, grumbling about how they may as well get it done with. Laurens and Mulligan followed shortly after. Lafayette gave Rey a sympathetic smile before he left the table.

“I apologize for speaking over you,” Aaron said to Rey. “But Hamilton is…” He wasn’t sure he’d ever find words, really, to fully describe Hamilton.

“He certainly is,” Rey agreed, a small playful smile on her face for a moment. She seemed to have understood “But…really, I’m willing to help. If anyone needs scavenging done or…repairs? Maybe? I can fight, if needed.”

Aaron stood and walked over to her side, offering his arm to her.

“Let’s see what the general has to say first.”

***

“How should I address the general?” Rey asked Aaron softly as they walked behind the four men just ahead of them. “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes or say the wrong thing.”

“Your Excellency,” Aaron said. “Sir. General. Any of those will do.” Rey nodded. They walked for a few moments.

“Do I bow? Salute?”

Before Aaron could answer, they turned the last corner to the grounds where the men were stationed. Washington’s corners were about thirty feet ahead. Rey halted in her tracks for a moment, and Aaron heard her gasp.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…” Aaron turned to look at her. She shook her head slightly. Her eyes were wide, and the slightest smile adorned her lips. “I can’t get over how much green there is in the galaxy.”

The grounds weren’t a vast forest or anything. Just a slighty hilly field. True, there were some trees in the distance to provide cover, but not many.

Still…something about how awed she seemed by such a simple sight…

…where had she come from?

Rey looked over at him, then back down.

“Sorry,” she said. “Silly.”

“Not at all,” he said. She looked back up at him.

“…what do I do if the general doesn’t know what to do?”

“He will.”

Rey stared at him for the longest time before nodding. Her eyes steeled with determination.

The two of them stepped forward. Another step. Another step. More steps until they were at the doorway to Washington’s quarters, where Hamilton had already stepped in to discuss aide-de-camp duties with the general.

“Your Excellency,” Aaron greeted. Rey’s grip on his arm tightened the slightest bit as Washington looked up at them. His eyebrows rose, in obvious surprise at the sight of Rey.

“Mr. Burr,” he greeted kindly.

“Sir, my friend has found herself in a rather unique situation,” Aaron began, “and it was thought that perhaps you could be of some assistance.”

“Is that so?” Washington asked, not unkindly. He smiled at Rey. “And how can I be of assistance, miss…?” Rey removed her arm from Aaron’s and stepped away and slightly forward.

“Rey, your excellency,” she said, nodding in a slight bow. She blinked, then seemed to come to some sort of realization, and she slipped her quarterstaff from off her shoulder and laid it on the ground. Washington watched, somewhat bemused.

“General Washington, please, Rey,” he said when she stood straight again. She nodded. “Shall we sit and discuss your ‘unique situation’?” Rey blinked, then nodded.

“As you please, sir,” she said, her hands clasped behind her back, poised better than some soldiers Aaron had seen in Washington’s presence. Washington smiled and gestured towards a nearby chair. Rey smiled politely and sat in the proffered chair.

“As I was saying, sir,” Hamilton began, following the general as he moved to sit in the chair across from Rey. “About this young woman—”

“Hamilton.”

“Sir?”

“Close the door on your way out.”

Hamilton, for once, seemed at a loss for words. His mouth agape for a moment, as though wanting to say something else, before he shut it with an almost audible clench of teeth. Burr watched the man walk out of the door and close it. He wanted to slam the door, Aaron could tell; there was enough subtle strength to the volume of the door closing.

“Did you want me to leave as well, sir?” Aaron asked. Rey turned to him suddenly, a small noise escaping her throat. Washington watched with interest.

“Please, your excellency, if it’s not too much to ask, can Mr. Burr stay?” Rey asked, turning back towards the general. “I would appreciate his presence.”

“I’m not sure that—”

“With due respect, sir, I was the first friendly face Rey came across in the city, so my presence may be a source of comfort,” Aaron said.

“Please, your excellency, I…” Rey paused, seeming to steel herself with a breath. “I recently underwent an interrogation held by a single party, and…Mr. Burr is correct, in a sense. It would provide a sort of comfort knowing someone else was here for this interrogation.”

There was a story there. Aaron would not pry for it; if Rey wanted to share, that would be her choice.

“You’re not a prisoner, Rey,” Washington said. “Though…it sounds like you have been?” A long pause before Rey nodded. “Were the British holding you prisoner?”

“No, sir, I don’t know these British.”

“But you’re not from the colonies?”

“No.”

“How did you find yourself in New York City?”

“…I don’t know. It’s…unbelievable. You will not believe what I have to tell you, I don’t think. It’ll sound like nonsense. Because I’m not from here.”

“From New York City?”

“From this world. This planet. Possibly even this universe.”

If Washington was shocked, his face didn’t show it. He sat back in his chair.

“Then where do you come from, Rey? And how did it lead you here?”

Rey paused before beginning to speak. Some of what she relayed to the general, Aaron had already heard – her time on Jakku and her life as a scavenger. Some of it was new. And Rey was right, to a degree; some of it sounded…well, it didn’t sound like NONSENSE, but it didn’t seem plausible. Ships that didn’t sound like any ships Aaron had ever seen. Mentions of guns and swords that couldn’t possibly exist because how could light be a weapon? Names that didn’t sound like names.

“I was standing in front of Luke…handing the lightsaber to Luke…and he took it and our fingers touched…and he gave me a look…I don’t know, I couldn’t read it…but then it was like…like the world seemed to crumble away, I was falling, falling into nothing, hurtling through space and…everything was rushing by so quickly, I closed my eyes and saw…so many things, a million things that haven’t been done, a million things I didn’t recognize, and now that I’m here it makes sense that none of it made sense but…”

Rey leaned forward, her elbows propped on her legs, and ran her hands over her face. Fatigue was beginning to set in, Aaron sensed. Partly physical fatigue, but he guessed mental and emotional fatigue, primarily. He couldn’t really blame her.

“Through all of it, I was only able to make out one thing…well, two things…a name and a face. I heard Luke’s voice say one name: Aaron Burr. And a flash of a face as the name was said, so I made a connection there and hoped I was right, even if I didn’t know what it meant.” She turned to Aaron. “That’s why I asked or, I guess seemed to know, your name when I met you in the alley. For me, it was just…hoping I was right. Not…knowing you, but recognizing you. And…having to hope that you would be able to help, or that I’d be able to trust you.”

“…the alleyway?” It was the first question Washington had asked since Rey had begun to tell her story.

“When I came to in…New York City?” Aaron nodded. “New York City…I was lying in an alleyway. Some men were passing by as I was getting up and must have thought I was an easy target to give a hard time.”

“And Mr. Burr came to your rescue?” Washington asked.

“She did not need rescuing, sir,” Aaron answered before Rey did. “I heard the commotion and ran to stop it, but she had already subdued the men by the time I arrived. I can attest to her skill with the quarterstaff; in close combat, she needs no defense.”

Washington looked over at the quarterstaff that laid on the floor. Rey was looking at Aaron, and gave him a grateful smile. Aaron could not help but smile back.

“Well…that is quite a story,” Washington said.

“It’s the truth, sir,” Rey said. “As best I can give you. It’s all right if you don’t believe me, sir – I don’t think anyone could. I mean, I wouldn’t believe me—”

“I believe you, Rey,” Washington said, holding a hand up to quiet her. Her voice halted mid-word, to gape at him for a moment before her mouth drew into a hesitant and grateful smile. “You’re right, though. Most others wouldn’t.” Washington paused, and his eyes went to Aaron. “Mr. Burr. Do you believe her?”

“Yes.” It was instant. Rey turned to look up at him, and he felt the need to repeat it – words directed to his general, eyes on Rey. “I believe her.” Rey’s eyes shone.

“How much do Hamilton and the others know?” Washington asked.

“They know about the alley…about Mr. Burr finding me,” Rey supplied. “They know I’m a scavenger from Jakku…at least, they’ve heard as such. Whether they believe it…I don’t know.” She fiddled with her hands. “What should I tell them, sir?”

***

“As far as anyone else on the grounds is concerned,” Aaron informed Hamilton, Laurens, Mulligan and Lafayette, “Rey is the sister of an American soldier named Finn who has been struck down at enemy lines and might be at death’s door. Finn told her if she ever found herself in trouble to go to General Washington, and he would help her. Until Finn is recovered or has returned, Rey will remain here.”

“Meaning, until she can get back to…wherever it is she really came from,” Hamilton said. “Just so we’re absolutely clear.”

“You four are the only other ones who know where Rey is really from. And it will remain that way.”

“Yes, General.” Laurens gave him a mocking salute.

“General’s orders, not mine. I’m simply passing them along.”

“What will she do here?” Lafayette asked. “Simply sit in a tent and wait until she is able to leave?”

“She will meet with General Washington in the morning and they will discuss further duties for her then,” Aaron said.

“Wouldn’t it be easier for everyone if Rey just went to stay with the general’s wife?” Mulligan asked. “There are men who will ask what business a woman has here.”

“I would say they will have us to contend with but…” Aaron glanced back at Rey. The shoulder strap of her quarterstaff slipped down her arm. She shrugged it back up as she continued to speak to General Washington. “She can defend herself well enough.”

“With a stick?” Hamilton said.

“Do not underestimate her, Hamilton,” Aaron warned.

“Where will she be staying?” Mulligan asked.

“For the time being, she and I will share quarters.”

To his utter lack of surprise, the four men exchanged looks. And before they could give him any grief, he continued to speak. “It is a matter of trust that she will be staying with me.”

“Really, Burr? You really trust…” Hamilton gestured vaguely towards her, with a less than appreciative look on his face.

“She is the stranger here. She trusts me.” He glanced at each of them. “Far more than any of you, I might add.” Before the men could argue, Aaron threw another point in their faces. “Would you rather she stay with one of you?” That shut them up.

“So a brother named Finn,” Lafayette said. “That is her story. Is there really a Finn?”

“Yes.”

Aaron turned around. Rey had approached, and was now standing next to him. She clutched tight to the bundle in her arms – bedding and clothes for her to make use of while she was with them.

“Finn was…is…the only person who’s ever really cared about me. He…” She looked down, lost in a memory. “He came back for me…”

“Is this Finn still living?” Lafayette asked. Rey clenched her jaw. Her arms tensed as she held the bundle tighter to her.

“He was struck down by a monster,” Rey said, voice taut. She blinked fast, as though to fight back tears. “He’s alive…but barely. Alive when I left him.”

“What happened to the monster?”

“I fought him…and I won.” She glanced up through her eyelashes, eyes flashing with something sharp. “You should’ve seen the scar.”

A very heavy pause as the men glanced nervously at each other. Rey smirked before turning to Aaron.

“Shall we, Mr. Burr?” Aaron nodded a silent farewell to his companions as he and Rey departed, making way to the tent where Aaron had been staying.

“I apologize for the lack of space,” Aaron said as Rey set up her bedding. “And for the lack of comfort.”

“Slept on the ground on Jakku, when times were particularly bad,” Rey said as she set up her bedding. “Used to it.”

“…you shouldn’t have to be used to it. To such hardships.”

“Because I’m a woman?”

“Because no one should have to be.”

Rey regarded him for a moment, before turning away from her bedding and facing him fully.

“And what hardships have you faced, Mr. Burr?” she asked. “Aside from having Alexander Hamilton as an acquaintance.”

Aaron couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of him at that remark. The glint of mischief in Rey’s eyes didn’t help matters in the slightest.

“Truly, Hamilton is the greatest hardship,” Aaron said, momentarily playing along with Rey’s proposal.

“I’m sure he’s a good man, but my word…” Rey sighed, exasperated, with a little helpless gesture of being unable to find words to express just what one was feeling.

“That sigh just about sums him up.”

It was Rey’s turn to laugh at what Aaron said. And again, there was that feeling…that he wanted to make her laugh at least once every day for the rest of his life. He quashed the feeling.

“Really, though…” Rey was all seriousness again. But kind about it. Friendly, even. “I want to know your story.”

“Because I’ve heard yours, and it’s only fair?”

“Because…I was sent to you. And I want to know why. And maybe, if I learned more about you, I would know why.”

It was a fair point. He could concede that. But before he could give a response, a look of sudden bashfulness fell over Rey’s face.

“I’m sorry…I’m probably prying,” she said, turning back towards her bedding. “I don’t want to intrude on your privacy more than I already have. You’re under no obligation to tell me anything about your life. I don’t…need to know; I just want to. Important distinction, that.” If she was going to say more, a yawn cut her off. “I’m sorry…it’s been a long day.”

A massive understatement. A grim smile.

“I am sorry about Finn,” Aaron said when the moment had passed.

“So am I,” Rey said with a sad smile. “I just…hope I can get back to him. I mean…he came back for me, it’s the least I can do for him.”

Aaron still wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but he wasn’t going to pry.

“Perhaps this is just a dream,” Aaron said. “And you’ll go to sleep, and when you wake up, you’ll be back where Finn is, and you’ll be able to go to him.” Rey nodded.

“Maybe.”

Aaron could tell she didn’t believe him, but he said nothing more as she moved underneath her blankets. He did the same and readied himself for sleep.

Though they both murmured “good night” to each other, sleep didn’t come easy.

He heard Rey sniffle a couple of times. A few sharp inhalations that only come with crying.

He let her weep in peace and the little privacy he could afford her.

As he drifted to sleep, he hoped she hadn’t cried through the night.

***

Over the next week, General Washington and Aaron oversaw Rey’s integration to life with the soldiers.

It began with Rey demonstrating what she knew with what she was given. Some rifles, ramrods, and bayonets for the barrels were in a state of disrepair and were thought to be unsalvageable. Some of them were. Some of them, however, Rey was able to rescue. With ramrods, sometimes it was just a matter of straightening them back out. Some of the weapons, the issue was being rusted over or having not been cleaned in seemingly decades. They were given to Rey in the morning, and later that afternoon, they were as good as new. How she did it was a mystery, and she wasn’t about to divulge her secrets. The only thing she would later tell Aaron that on Jakku, anything she found while scavenging, she took back to her place to clean as thoroughly as she could, before bringing her goods to Unkar Plutt. There was a cleaning station near Plutt’s, but it cost ration packs to use it, so it was never worth it.

“I managed with what I had,” she explained. “So it’s what I’m doing here.” Even if the weapons were “only sort of what like what she’d seen”. Not archaic. Not beyond any technology she’d ever possessed. Just different.

She was shown where the horses were kept and where their food was kept. While she was briefed on how best to approach the horses and get on their good side, she came to it naturally, it seemed. And it never seemed like a duty to her, Aaron noticed the few times he observed her feeding the horses. With some soldiers, they just shoved the feed under the horse’s mouths and left. Rey took time to stay with them. Greeted them with smiles and calm, low words. Patted their haunches or stroked their heads as they ate. Made sure they had enough, while also making sure they wouldn’t run out of food for the week.

At some point, General Washington asked her to demonstrate her skills with the quarterstaff. How she wielded it when faced head-on, when surprised from behind, when facing more than one opponent, when trying to fight off someone coming at her with a bayonet. She never got hurt, and she never actually hurt anyone who “attacked” her in these demonstrations (though she gave Laurens a good scare with the ferocity in her eyes). The general was impressed, but also seemed relieved. Aaron presumed it was with a knowledge that she could indeed defend herself, in case there were any soldiers whose intentions were less than noble at the sight of a woman on the grounds.

Her wearing a spare uniform did help matters. It was less conspicuous than the clothes in which she’d arrived, as well as less revealing. When she’d received the uniform, she’d given Aaron his black coat back. It still smelled like her – like something he couldn’t completely describe.

Like sunlight, he finally decided.

***

Every night, Aaron noticed, Rey would spend looking at the stars.

She’d asked General Washington if he had any maps she could look at. Maybe she could find a name of a planet she was familiar with. The maps of the colonies baffled her. She’d meant maps of stars. Maps of planets. Those, the general could not give her.

She was searching. For some sign or star or spot that she could recognize. Or maybe she was just praying. Hoping. For Finn, for Luke, for any and every other acquaintance or friend she had where she came from. Maybe just hoping to wake up soon, and wishing on a different star every night.

On one hand, Aaron could understand it, and he would probably do the same thing if he were in her shoes. On the other hand – the selfish hand – he would miss her when she left.

If she left.

No. When she left. He would stay positive, for her, that she would find her way.

***

There was one day, Aaron remembered (would always remember), when Hamilton and Lafayette were speaking rapidly in French to each other, as was their wont on occasion. Rather, Hamilton was doing most of the talking, while Lafayette interjected a couple of times.

Rey and Aaron had been a few feet away from them, organizing and sorting weapons for the general. Hamilton kept glancing over at Rey, and Rey and Aaron pretended not to notice.

In the midst of all the French, Rey’s name could be made out clearly. More by Hamilton than by Lafayette, though from what Aaron could tell, Lafayette was being kinder about Rey than Hamilton seemed to be.

Rey worked silently for a few minutes while this went on, waiting for it to stop. But it was Hamilton. When did the man ever stop.

Aaron dropped a bayonet in surprise when Rey spoke to him. In a language he certainly did not understand. She said a few sentences. The only words he made out were “Alexander Hamilton”. A few more sentences. “Marquis de Lafayette.”

She continued this for a minute or so until she knew she had the attention of Hamilton and Lafayette. Lafayette looked confused, but a little impressed. Hamilton seethed as Rey brought his name up a few more times. Because it was clear that whatever she was saying, it probably wasn’t kind.

She finally stopped, picking up an armful of weapons and carrying the over to their designated spot, stopping as she passed Hamilton and Lafayette.

“Doesn’t feel very good, does it?” she said, her eyes all innocence, her smile serene.

She glanced back at Aaron before turning away.

He turned back to his work, the smile never leaving his lips, his heart beating a little faster than usual. But in a pleasant way.

***

One night, Aaron stayed up late writing letters. Late enough that Rey had fallen asleep. Late enough that his candle had almost melted into nothing.

Late enough to notice Rey moan in her sleep.

When Aaron looked over, he head jerked in one direction. Her body tensed, her face contorted in an expression that resembled pain.

He set his papers and pen and ink aside and went to her side. He made to reach out, push her hair back, softly say her name to rouse her from sleep, from whatever nightmare she was having.

Before he could do any of that, her eyes sprung open, darted back and forth in fear, before landing on him. He was still poised above her, hand slightly outstretched.

“Get out,” she said, voice trembling.

“Rey?”

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD.”

“Rey, it’s—”

She was scrambling up, pushing herself backwards, away from him, hand at her head, as though shielding herself from something or someone, all the while repeating the same words, begging, pleading for him to “get out of her head”. He lowered his hand and arm, didn’t move to comfort her or convince her she was safe. He had a feeling that doing so would make things worse, somehow.

He stayed where he was.

And in doing that, something seemed to click. She uncovered her face and looked at him with wide, watery eyes.

“Aaron?”

His breath caught. She rarely, if ever, called him by his Christian name. Propriety demanded a title and a surname from her to him.

He nodded, unable to speak.

And she launched herself at him, flung her arms around him, tucked her chin into the crook of his neck.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t, I thought you were…”

Her words were gone, and he still didn’t have any. He was still trying to process the fact and the feeling of her body against his.

He was not unfamiliar with the female form. He’d shared a bed or two or more with a willing woman.

But never had a woman been in his arms like this. Even that was inaccurate, because she WASN’T in his arms; her arms were around him, true, but his were still at his sides. Hesitant to reach up and touch her. Afraid to frighten her. Perhaps even a little afraid that she wasn’t really embracing him, and that she’d melt away if he tried to hold her.

Before he could do anything or reciprocate in any way, she was pulling away from him.

“I’m sorry about that, I had a….”

“Bad dream?” He was finally able to speak.

“Bad memory. And you were…”

“If I offended you or frightened you in any way—”

“No, it was…unintentional, it just…” She reached up to wipe a tear away. She was still shaking. Even though she was no longer against him, he could feel her still trembling.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Aaron assured her.

“No, if I talk it out, it might help…” Rey said, holding a hand up. “I just…” She took a deep breath. “Before…here…I was briefly held prisoner and interrogated by…an opposing force. He was…able to…get into my head. See things. Private things…my every…fear, every weakness…the only happy things I could cling to and he…twisted them, perverted them, it was so…” She broke off, taking in another deep, shuddering breath. “And the way he did, he…reached out like this…” She reached out with her hand, towards Aaron’s head. “Didn’t touch me, just…reached out…with his hand…and he was in my head. And it…it hurt SO much…and…I don’t know, in my dreams, it just felt like I was back there again, in that room, strapped to that chair, with him trying to take and take and take and when I woke up and saw you in that same position…” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she lowered her hand. “I knew you weren’t him. I know you aren’t. But for that brief moment…it was exactly the same and I just…”

He wanted to hold her. He wanted to gather her into his arms and let her sob into his shoulder. He wanted to whisper comfort into her ear and kiss her forehead and vow to protect her from everything bad in this world and her world. He wanted to find the monster who did this to her and SLAUGHTER him.

He didn’t do any of that. He didn’t say anything.

But he did hold a hand out, resting against her crumpled blanket. A peace offering. She reached out and took it, fingers curling around his, squeezing tight, their arms outstretched.

“I’m so sorry,” she said once more.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Aaron said. His thumb ran over the top of her hand. She shifted closer to him, their arms lowering as she did.

“That’s just how women are, I suppose?” she said, sad and sardonic. Aaron’s grip on her hand tightened – not hard enough to crush, but firm enough to be noticeable.

“You are the strongest woman I have ever met,” he said. “The strongest PERSON I have ever met.” Rey shook her head and he could tell she meant to argue, but he wouldn’t have it. “I have known men to crumble under less. Men celebrated for their strength, felled by trifles. You…you have lived through so much. Survived so much. And you are here. Right now. And I am honored to know you.”

Rey wiped a tear away.

“You’re not just saying that because the first time you saw me, I’d beat three men half to death?” she asked.

“I thought you were breathtaking,” Aaron said, all sincerity. Because…really, she had been. And she still was. Even with her hair a mess, her eyes red from crying, her nose running…

She was beautiful.

“You’re probably the sweetest man I’ve ever met, Aaron Burr,” she said. Her thumb ran over his knuckles, and she squeezed his hand. “At least, the sweetest man on this earth.”

“I’ll take it,” Aaron said. He was sincere when he said it. But it made Rey laugh.

He’d always thought Rey’s laugh was one of the most wonderful sounds. He was wrong. Rey’s laughter after tears was the greatest sound in the world.

“Can I…sleep a little closer to you?” she asked, voice growing shier with every word. “I think…I know it’s bold to ask, but…” She squeezed his hand once again. “I trust you. And I think being near you will help.” She paused. “I’m not asking to sleep under the same sheets as you, just…maybe if I moved my kit closer to yours…”

“Whatever you need,” Aaron said, squeezing her hand. She looked into his eyes, held his gaze for a few long, lovely moments.

“Thank you.”

She slept through the rest of the night. Aaron slept light enough, at first, to open his eyes and check on here every now and again through the night.

When he woke up after hard sleep, Rey was still. Peaceful. Her feet brushed against his ankles, and her fingers splayed across his pillow. Still under her blankets, but with the hint of sharing his.

***

Winter was settling in, and with it, its many drawbacks. The cold. The snow. The cold again.

Rey, however, couldn’t get enough of it. She was enthralled. Especially by the mere concept of snow.

She’d only seen it once before in her life, she told Aaron. “But for so short a time. And I was distracted by a great many things to appreciate it.”

The thing about snow was, it could come in so many forms. There was the kind that looked like sand – the white, light, powdery snow that whirled around you in the wind and dusted rooftops. There were the great big fluffy flakes that looked like cotton or down feathers floating in the air. (Rey liked this kind the best. It looked delicious, she said. Aaron caught her more than once, head tipped up, tongue outstretched, trying to catch the flakes. She would wince when the flakes landed in her eyes, and her whole face would scrunch up, and she’d laugh in spite of herself, and Aaron found her endearing.)

If the days were cold, the night grew even colder. And Rey and Aaron drew closer each night for warmth. It was out of pure necessity – double the blankets, sharing body heat, et cetera.

(Aaron waking up to Rey’s breath tickling his neck or the weight of her head on his chest were also nice. Sometimes, he woke to her gently lifting his arm away from where he’d wrapped it around her during the night so she could rise. It was never brought up, positively or negatively.)

***

One afternoon, Aaron and Rey were back in New York City. Partly on business/a supply run, partly to see the city in the daytime, since Rey’s previous excursion to the city had been less than pleasant. The buildings could be seen better, and friendlier people walked the streets. Aaron practically had to keep hold of Rey’s wrist so as not to lose her. Everything about the city entranced her; she couldn’t NOT take it all in.

That is, until she unwittingly bumped into another body.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Rey said. “I really should have been watching where I was walking, I just had to…”

“Look around?” the young woman asked Rey.

“Yes, exactly! Your city is so—”

“Ah, Mr. Burr,” a voice said. “The trust fund himself.”

“Miss Schuyler,” Aaron greeted as Angelica approached, Peggy hot on her heels. “I’m flattered you recognized me.”

“You really shouldn’t be,” Angelica said, her smile sweet as honey, her tone tart as lemon. “Though I do sincerely hope you’ve discovered better ways of introducing yourself to women.” She looked over at Rey, who was talking merrily away with Eliza. “What did you say to her to woo her?”

“Actually, she approached me,” Aaron said. It was the truth, technically. Angelica raised her eyebrows. “But we’re not—”

“Angelica, Peggy, this is Rey,” Eliza said, walking Rey over to her older and younger sisters. “She’s been staying with General Washington’s troops while her brother is indisposed.”

“A pleasure to meet you both,” Rey said with a kind smile. “You and your sister. Even if it wasn’t the most graceful of meetings.”

“It’s very kind of the general to allow you to live amongst his soldiers,” Angelica said, curious but not unkind. “I’d be nervous, myself.”

“The general’s a very good man. I trust him. As for the soldiers…” Rey glanced over at Aaron. “Some of them, I trust with all my heart. The rest…well…I can defend myself.” Peggy arched an eyebrow from behind Angelica, who looked amused.

“Well, I suppose we’ll be seeing the both of you at the ball later tonight?” Angelica said to Aaron and Rey.

“We…weren’t aware there was one,” Aaron said. “But should you wish us to come—”

“We would love it if you did,” Eliza spoke up. “I should very much like to speak more with Rey.”

“Wait…a ball, like, with dancing? I don’t—”

“You’re not required to dance,” Angelica said. “Though I’m certain the sight of you in a dress would have many a man lined up for a chance.”

“That’s very kind, Miss Schuyler, but I don’t have any dresses so…I’ll probably just come in my uniform.” All three sisters’ jaws dropped slightly. “Or I’ll just stay in my tent for the night, it’s really not—”

Rey was cut off by Peggy walking over and taking Rey’s arm.

“Mr. Burr, we will be borrowing your Rey for the rest of the afternoon,” Peggy said kindly. “You may pick her up at the ball tonight.”

“Peggy, I’m certain Rey and Mr. Burr have general’s orders to—” Angelica began.

“The general won’t mind,” Peggy insisted. “It’s just an afternoon and evening. Besides, I have a dress that I know will suit Rey better than it has ever suited me.”

“Please, Rey,” Eliza asked. “If I’m thinking of the dress Peggy has in mind, it will look heavenly on you. Though it looks well on her, too.”

“Lies, Eliza,” Peggy said. “We both know it.”

Rey looked from one sister to the other to the third back at the first and finally looked at Aaron, almost pleading for help. Aaron smiled sympathetically.

“Give the general my apologies?” she said weakly. Aaron couldn’t help but laugh.

“I will if you promise me the first dance,” he said.

“You’ll regret that, Mr. Burr,” Rey said. “I’ve never danced before in my life.”

“We will teach her,” Peggy assured Aaron, whisking Rey away. “Good afternoon, Mr. Burr.” Eliza gave Aaron an apologetic smile before following her younger sister.

“She’ll be returned to you in one piece,” Angelica said. She looked amused in spite of herself. “Never you fret, Mr. Burr.”

“She doesn’t belong to me, Miss Schuyler. She’s not mine. She’s her own person.” Angelica raised her eyebrows.

“Is that so?” She sounded slightly impressed. “Still…my sisters and I will bring her to the ball unscathed. She’ll be the prettiest one there.”

“Second only to yourself?”

“Second only to Eliza. Though if Peggy were within earshot, second only to Peggy.”

“The Schuyler sisters are the envy of all – of that there is no doubt.”

“Save the flattery for your Rey at the ball tonight.”

Before Aaron could protest once again that Rey was not his, Angelica was sashaying away with a “good afternoon, Mr. Burr” and a smirk.

A winter’s ball…it was probably something worth mentioning to the other men.

***

As it turned out, every other soldier already knew about the ball. They just chose not to tell Aaron because they “knew it wasn’t his scene” (according to Hamilton).

Well…shows how much they knew. And he told them as much as he accompanied them to the hall where the ball was to be held.

Hamilton, Laurens, Lafayette, and Mulligan instantly went for either a lady or an alcoholic beverage of some kind. He chose to take a moment and admire the ballroom. The warm lighting. A dance playing in the distance, lively and fun.

“Mr. Burr!” He turned at his name being called.

“Miss Elizabeth Schuyler,” he greeted as the middle sister, a vision in pale blue, walked up to him. “A pleasure once again.”

“We wondered when you’d arrived,” she said sweetly, offering her hand to him.

“I take it you mean you and your sisters,” he said after kissing her hand. She slipped her arm through his and, though it appeared he was the one leading her, gently guided him in a certain direction.

“You’ve either forgotten someone or you left her name out on purpose,” Eliza teased. “But yes. Peggy has been anxious and Angelica intrigued as to your reaction.”

“Reaction to…?”

“Your Rey, of course. Mr. Burr, are you being deliberately obtuse?”

“She is not my…”

The words died on his lips as they turned a corner, entered a subsection of the ballroom, and he saw her.

“My God.”

And his heart imploded.

Rey stood near a table with Peggy, who chattered away happily about something. Rey was nodding and smiling, laughing at some points. She was in a dark green dress that was cut in a style similar to Eliza’s. Her hair was swept away from her face as always, but much gentler than her usual style, not as taut. And it wasn’t all completely pulled back. The ends of her dark brown hair brushed her shoulders and framed her face and neck just so.

He’d never seen her looking so utterly feminine. Always uniforms. Her clothing from Jakku. His own black coat, on occasion (she liked the warmth of it, the comfort of it…her first source of comfort when she’d arrived to this planet, she explained). But now…

He felt almost ashamed at how his eyes traveled over the dark green silky fabric adorning her, like a forest at night, a forest he’d easily get lost in and never leave or want to leave. How the fashion of the dress gave her curves – curves he’d never considered, never imagined, but was sure (and slightly afraid) that he’d be dreaming of tonight. The teasing modesty of the neckline, exposing JUST enough shoulder, JUST enough collarbone, dipping JUST low enough at the swell of her bosom, and he tried not to dwell on questions regarding how her skin might feel (rough like her hands, or soft and smooth) beneath his fingertips or his…

…Rey sensed eyes on her, and she turned. Met his eyes. Her smile settled. Not growing, not fading, but into a familiarity. Fondness for a friend. For him. Maybe he imagined the blush the crept on to her cheeks. Maybe the dark green of her dress enhanced the creaminess of her skin enough for a blush to bloom more apparent than it would otherwise. Regardless, she glanced down, almost shy. Maybe just nervous about being seen like this, by him, for the first time.

“I’ll leave you to it, then?”

He’d almost forgotten Eliza had been on his arm. Though his arm must have slackened at the sight of Rey, as Eliza had already slipped away from him. He looked over at her to apologize, but the twinkle in her eye stopped him.

“Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about us, would we?” Eliza said, somehow simultaneously serious and teasing.

“Any man will be lucky for your hand, Miss Elizabeth,” Aaron said. It was genuine, because it was true; from the little time he’d known her, Elizabeth Schuyler was probably one of the best of women to grace the earth. She smiled.

“You’re very kind, Mr. Burr,” she said demurely. “Your luck lies with another, though.” She glanced at Rey once before leaving the room, giving Aaron a small curtsey as she left.

“We were wondering when you would make an appearance, Mr. Burr,” Peggy said as Aaron approached, offering her hand for the requisite kiss. Aaron obliged the youngest Schuyler sister before turning to Rey, who seemed suddenly very interested in the contents of her punch glass.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hello,” Aaron greeted kindly. She looked up.

“I look a right fool, don’t I?” she asked.

“Not at all.”

“I feel one.”

“She’s been like this since she first saw herself in the dress,” Peggy said. “You’d think she’d never worn a dress before in her life.”

“Not one this fine,” Rey said. “It’s…different.”

“Well…I happen to think you look beautiful,” Peggy insisted, giving Aaron a sly look. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Burr?”

“Would you care to dance, Rey?” Aaron asked in lieu of an answer, offering his hand to Rey. The gratitude in her eyes was apparent only to him, and her hand found his easily.

“She’s right,” Rey said quietly to Aaron as they walked away. “I’ve NEVER worn a dress. It’s so…” She shifted slightly next to him. “It’s different. I don’t know if I like it.”

“It’s understandable,” Aaron said.

“And these shoes are ridiculous,” Rey almost hissed. Aaron glanced down at the heels one of the Schuylers must have given her to go with the dress. Very fashionable. “Shoes should be flat on the ground. How is one to run in these, much less dance?”

“I can’t speak for running, as I don’t think one is meant to run in heels,” Aaron said. “You’re doing marvelously with walking though.”

“That’s because I’ve got you to steady me,” Rey said, clutching a bit tighter to his arm.

They walked into the main ballroom, where a dance was just finishing up. The couples in the room stopped to applaud the group of musicians. The musicians nodded their thanks before raising their instruments to play another song. Which ended up being a waltz.

“Shall we?” Aaron asked Rey. Rey nodded.

Aaron wasn’t sure how much about dancing the Schuylers had taught Rey before the ball. But she knew enough to poise herself for a waltz, her right hand raising to take his left hand, her left hand resting on his shoulder as his right hand rested on her waist. She either knew enough to let Aaron lead, or just trusted him enough to lead because he was the one who knew what he was doing. Her eyes basically never left her feet for the first twenty seconds or so, as she tried to make sure she wasn’t going to trip, or that her ankle wouldn’t turned in her heels. Really, she only glanced up at him when she accidentally stepped on his toes.

“Sorry,” she whispered for the fifth-or-so time.

“Rey, look at me,” Aaron said.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m trying not to—”

“While we dance,” Aaron clarified. “Just…eyes on me. It’ll help.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Rey said, looking up at him reluctantly. “I’m going to crush your toes more.”

“My toes are fine,” Aaron insisted. Yes, she’d stepped on them a few times, but his own shoes were sturdy enough to prevent any real damage being done to them. “Just focus on me.”

“Because you’re the most important person in the room?” Rey said, trying to tease, but tone tinged with nerves.

“We both know that’s not true,” Aaron said with a slight laugh. “If anything, that would be you.”

“In the grand scheme of things on this planet, that’s doubtful,” Rey said.

“Then the most interesting. The most beautiful.”

“Mr. Burr, you flatter me.”

“I speak nothing but the truth.”

“I would argue the loveliest woman present is a certain Schuyler sister.”

“Which one?”

“Whichever one is within earshot.”

There was a moment where Aaron had to compute what Rey had just said before she burst into a rather mischievous giggle.

“Oh, that was mean of me,” Rey said in the midst of her laughter. “Really, all of them are lovely. They’ve been so lovely to me all afternoon.”

“I had no doubt,” Aaron said. “And guess what?”

“What?”

“You haven’t stepped on my toes once since you stopped looking down at them.”

“Is that so, Mr. Burr?”

“Told you it would work.”

“Indeed you did. You’re the best man I’ve ever danced with.”

“High praise indeed.”

“It’s really not; you’re the ONLY man I’ve ever danced with.”

“Any praise from you is high praise.”

“Are you going to do that all night?”

“Do what?”

“Flatter me into forgetting how foolish I feel? Because it’s nearly working. I’ve almost forgotten I’m in a dress.”

“A very lovely dress. To say nothing of the woman inside it.”

“It’s…strange. Being called…all of these things.”

“What things?”

“Lovely. Pretty. Beautiful. Those things.”

“Why is it strange?”

“Because I never had a reason to consider myself as such. Not on Jakku, anyway. But put me in a dress and all of a sudden, I’m taking everyone’s breath away. Don’t know how to feel about that.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I will not bring it up again.”

“No! No, Mr. Burr, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s…I suppose it’s to be expected. …I’m actually rather curious to know find Mr. Hamilton and gauge his reaction. I expect his brain will explode.”

“Either that or he’ll be rendered speechless for the first time in his life.”

“Because the oddity from another world looks like she actually BELONGS in his world?”

“Because the loveliest woman in New York City is on my arm and not his.”

“…well…shall we go find him and see what it will be? Self-combustion or speechlessness?”

“We shall.”

The song wasn’t over. …actually, it was a different song from when they’d started dancing. How many songs had passed? Aaron wasn’t sure. Moreover, he didn’t really care.

They crossed into a side room, where in the distance, Aaron saw Angeliza introducing Hamilton to Eliza. Rey waved at Peggy as they passed by. Peggy, who’d been talking to Laurens, waved back. Laurens briefly glanced over at whomever Peggy was waving at as he sipped his punch, then proceeded to choke on said punch at the realization that the woman in the green dress was Rey.

“…for us to meet, it will have been worth it,” Hamilton was saying to Eliza as Aaron and Rey walked up. He pressed a kiss to a blushing and dreamy-eyed Eliza’s hand after he finished his pretty words, as Angelica watched with amusement (and, it seemed to Aaron, a tinge of regret.) Over Hamilton’s shoulder, Angelica noticed Aaron and Rey, and her smile perked up.

“Mr. Burr,” she greeted. “I see you’ve found your lovely companion.” Eliza smiled at the sight of Rey and Aaron, arm in arm. Hamilton turned, and based on his facial expression, was poised to give Aaron a seemingly cordial, secretly snide salutation.

“If it isn’t Aaron Burr, sir.” Called it. “And your—REY?”

“Good evening, Mr. Hamilton,” Rey said demurely, with a curtsey that Angelica must have coached her on, given the resulting look of approval from the eldest Schuyler sister. Alex opened and closed his mouth several times, very much resembling a fish as, Aaron assumed, his brain was rapidly trying to register the sight of Rey in a dress so he could respond appropriately and wittily.

“Cat got your tongue, Mr. Hamilton?” Rey asked innocently. Aaron bit his tongue to prevent himself from laughing.

“You’re…in a dress,” Alex finally said.

“Well spotted, Mr. Hamilton,” Angelica said as Aaron FELT Rey holding back her own laughter.

“It looks very well on her, doesn’t it, Mr. Hamilton?” Eliza said, stepping forward. “It must; you seem to be at a loss for words.”

“Probably because he’s never seen me in such a fine dress before,” Rey said, smoothing out the skirt of the dress slightly. “Not because I’m the belle of the ball, which…I doubt I am.”

“I think you’re perfectly lovely,” Eliza said, tone insistent but kind. “Absolutely deserving of the title of ‘belle of the ball’. Don’t you, Mr. Hamilton?”

“I…forgive me,” Alex said, seemingly reviving his faculties. “I’ve only had eyes for you this evening, Miss Schuyler.” Eliza blushed at the comment.

“Well, Mr. Burr,” Angelica said, breaking the slight moment. “How does it feel to have the belle of the ball on your arm?”

“The title changes nothing,” Aaron said. “It is an honor regardless.” Angelica smiled slightly at the remark, and Eliza made the softest of sighs.

“Well, the belle of the ball should ONLY dance with the handsomest man here,” Angelica said with slight sardonicism. “It’s ONLY natural at these gatherings.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Rey said. “However, I’ve already been dancing with him all evening.”

Aaron looked over at Rey quickly. She wasn’t looking at him, but rather, at Hamilton, challenge in her eyes. Anticipation. He looked back at the three others. Angelica was bemused, Eliza beaming, and Hamilton…not offended, but staring at Burr with slight bewilderment.

Aaron glanced back at Rey. A small satisfied smirk for the briefest moment, before giving way to a polite smile as she looked up at Aaron.

“Shall we go and find some refreshment, Mr. Burr?” she asked. “I think we passed by a punch bowl that wasn’t empty just yet.”

“Yes, of course,” Aaron said. “A pleasure, Miss Schuyler. Elizabeth. Hamilton.” He nodded to them as they departed.

“Speechlessness,” Rey said when the three were no longer within earshot. “You won.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Aaron said. Rey looked up at him. “Call me the handsomest man here.”

“You’re right. I didn’t. But I wanted to, so I did.”

“To throw Hamilton off more?”

“…I will admit, that was part of it,” Rey said as she and Aaron walked. She moved a little closer to him. “But…I don’t know, maybe it’s the ballroom setting or something, but you are particularly handsome tonight.”

“You…find me handsome?”

“…like with me being pretty and whatnot, it’s not something I’ve considered all that much. But when I think back over the time I’ve known you…yes, I suppose I’ve always found you rather handsome.”

“…compared to Hamilton, that is?”

“No. Just…you. As you are, Aaron Burr.”

Rey looked up at him.

It was his turn to feel speechless.

The moment was soon broken, however, by Laurens bringing Lafayette and Mulligan up to show them that, yes indeed, Rey was in a dress, and for them to trip over themselves and their words over this fact. And then expressed disappointment when she politely declined to dance with them; she’d danced enough with Aaron for the night.

“You are the worst, Burr,” Lafayette grumbled from his punch glass.

Not the first time he’d heard it from them in one way or another. Wouldn’t be the last.

He didn’t care.

Rey thought he was handsome.

The sky was the limit.

***

It seemed like no time at all had passed before there was a wedding.

Before Aaron was seeing Rey in a dress again.

Before the day where she was the happiest had ever seen her be since she arrived. And why not? Weddings were happy occasions.

True, her happiness was less for Eliza and Hamilton as it was for Eliza’s happiness. That didn’t deter Rey from beaming through the ceremony and the reception, joining Angelica’s toast, and running up to embrace Eliza with all the joy she could muster.

And now, Aaron watched Rey dancing with General Washington. (Because one could not refuse a request from one’s general.) She hadn’t danced since the winter’s ball those weeks ago, but he could tell she was more at ease with it, the way her eyes weren’t glued to her feet this time around. She was smiling up at the General, who said something that made her laugh. He could hear it…not that she laughed that loud, but he knew what that laugh sounded like without needing to hear it.

“You’ve been abandoned, Lieutenant Colonel.”

Aaron turned to see Hamilton approaching him, drinking from a wine glass. Aaron wondered how a man could manage to be even the slightest bit spiteful at his own wedding, but Hamilton found a way.

“You seem to have forgotten how the General asked to dance with the new Mrs. Hamilton,” Aaron replied calmly.

“That’s different,” Hamilton said, waving it off.

“Right. How could I forget? It’s a tradition that spans centuries, for the general to dance with the newly wedded wife of his aide-de-camp. My mistake.” Hamilton coughed into his wine glass, in spite of himself. Aaron smiled. “I wish you and your wife many happy years together. Elizabeth is a wonderful woman.” Hamilton’s face softened.

“Thank you, Burr,” he said, giving Aaron a genuine smile. “And I should thank you for coming. It means the world to Eliza that you and Rey could be here.”

“Of course,” Aaron said. “Seems like the winter’s ball was only yesterday…” It really had only been weeks ago. Not a lot of time at all.

“Well…when you know, you know,” Hamilton said. “And we’re in the middle of a war. Why waste time?” Aaron nodded.

“Fair enough,” he acquiesced, his eyes falling back to Rey.

“She almost looks like she belongs,” Hamilton sighed as he downed the rest of his glass. Aaron clenched his law slightly.

“She does belong,” he said, trying to sound casual about it. Hamilton scoffed.

“We both know where she’s actually from, and that any day, she could go back. Just be…whisked off or up or…whatever…to her home. Leave not a trace.”

“We don’t know that. She may never find a way back.”

“Do you HOPE that, Burr?” Hamilton asked, a mix of curiosity and slight astonishment in his voice.

“I hope she’s happy. Wherever she ends up being. If it’s her home or if it’s here with…”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish that thought. Not in front of Hamilton. Hamilton shook his head.

“You can’t be serious.” He’d gotten the gist of it anyway. Infuriatingly perceptive man. “I will never understand you, Burr. Of all women…HER?”

The music stopped. The dancers clapped. Rey curtsied to the bowing General, and he took her arm. Aaron watched the two walk over towards Eliza and Angelica, Rey launching into conversation with Eliza as Angelica smiled politely at General Washington, nodding her acceptance of a dance.

“I never thought I’d be saying this, but you can do better, Burr,” Hamilton said.

Aaron said nothing. Just smiled wanly.

He couldn’t do better.

…not true. He’d charmed many a lady before.

When it came to Rey…

…she was too good for him, in his eyes. And she always would be.

***

In the darkest, most desperate days of battle, last resorts are taken. The horses that are the most starved, the closest to death already, brought to the slaughter so the man have something to eat.

Rey went unsettlingly silent when this news was announced. She fed the horses nearly every day. And even when there was nothing to feed them, she still visited them at feeding time, apologizing for not having anything.

She curled up in her blankets at mealtimes. Utterly refused to partake in what could barely be called a feast.

“I’ve starved before,” she said stubbornly. Emptily. Hollowly. “I’ll starve again.”

It felt like too many days went by since Aaron or anyone had seen Rey eat anything. The General was concerned. Even Hamilton was a little worried, not that he’d ever admit it.

But Rey showed no signs of being weak with hunger. She continued her daily jobs, She cleaned and repaired more weapons. Upon fixing a musket and loading it for a test fire, she clicked back the safety and aimed at a nearby tree. Her arm barely shook as she pulled the trigger. Wood splintered as the bullet hit the trunk.

***

The Battle of Monmouth was, very simply put, a fucking disaster.

Some people got angry. Some people went straight to their cots with the intention of sleeping for a week straight.

Aaron went straight to the tavern, slammed down whatever money he had, and asked how much alcohol he could get for that.

(Enough. The answer was enough.)

Later that night, Aaron and Rey found themselves in fits of laughter as they tipsily told stories from their lives to one another.

“You didn’t!” Rey giggled as Aaron took another drink. “You ACTUALLY tried to light a candle with your GUN?”

“I did,” Aaron said sheepishly into his glass.

“And set yourself on FIRE?”

“It’s not like that was my aim,” Aaron started. Then paused. “Get it? ‘Aim’? Because I had a gun?”

“Yes, you’re very clever, continue,” Rey said between further giggles.

“Not much else to it. It was dark, I’d grossly miscalculated how much gunpowder I’d poured out, took my gun and—” He pointed his fingers like a gun. “Click, boom, then it happened. My shirt caught fire. The papers on my desk caught fire. I burned my hand.”

“But did you light the candle?” Rey asked, leaning forward and asking the question in a very serious tone. Aaron tried to choke back laughter, but was unsuccessful. Rey’s serious face nearly broke, but she was able to maintain the façade of composure. “This is a very serious question, Mr. Burr.”

“Yes, yes, I was successful in lighting the candle, amongst the many things I previously mentioned,” Aaron finally managed to say. “And then I proceeded to write a letter recounting the night’s events.”

“I’m so glad I heard this story from you,” Rey said, taking a sip from her mug.

“As opposed to…?” Aaron asked. “Or are you just glad you heard the story?”

“…well, coming from anyone else, this story would just be an excuse to make fun of you. Belittle you. As opposed to coming from YOU. From you, it’s an amusing anecdote from a time past that you can look on with a sort of fondness.”

“…and still laugh at myself because my actions were admittedly idiotic.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“But technically, you’re still laughing at me,” Aaron teased.

“No, I’m not laughing AT you. I’m laughing WITH you…at…yourself…I think. Did that make sense?”

“Perfect sense.”

“Okay, good.” Rey smiled. “…I still can’t believe you actually thought that was a good idea. ‘Hmm, I ran out of matches. Wait, I know, I’ll use my GUN!’”

“Not my brightest moment,” Aaron laughed. “…actually, given that my shirt caught flame, one could make the argument that it WAS one of my brightest moments.”

“Seems like something Poe would do…and probably has done.”

“Poe?”

Rey’s smile faltered.

“He’s, um…from home. A friend of Finn’s. I met him briefly before I left for Ahch-To.” She stared at the contents of her cup for a while before she drank everything left down in one gulp. “Anyway, from the very little time I’ve known him, and from what BB-8 has told me about him, Poe seems like the type to have set himself on fire at some point while trying to achieve some basic function.”

“Good to know some things never change,” Aaron said with a shrug. Rey laughed at that.

“Oh, that wasn’t even all that funny, why am I laughing so much?”

“Probably because you’re drunk.”

“Excuse you, Mr. Burr, I am not drunk. I don’t think. I’ve never been drunk before so I don’t know what it’s like.”

“Well, how do you feel?”

“Really giggly, like we’ve established. And I really feel like talking. Like I could talk for hours and never want to shut up—”

Rey sat up straight, her eyes widening in what appeared to be abject horror.

“What?” Aaron asked, sitting up straight himself. “What is it? Do you feel ill?”

“No—yes—well…” Rey looked at him. “Is this how Hamilton feels all the time?”

They stared at each other for a long while before the next round of laughter pealed through their little tent.

“Nooooo!” Rey cried out. “No, I don’t want to be Hamilton! I don’t want to be obnoxious!”

“Soon you’ll be calling me ‘Aaron Burr, sir’,” Aaron teased.

“No, anything but that!” Rey pleaded as she laughed.

“So, what’s it like in Hamilton’s shoes?” Aaron teased further.

“Horrible. I hate it.”

“Well…can’t be all bad. I mean, you’re Washington’s right hand man.”

“…I mean, the general is nice and all, but…”

“And you’re married to one of the best women in New York City.”

“Oh. Life with Eliza…yeah, that’s the only thing about being Hamilton that’s all right.”

“…I sometimes wish I could be a little more like him.” Aaron stared at his empty glass. The drink had loosened his tongue this much. May as well get it all out. “That I…talked more. He just…he never stops. He takes and takes and he always seems to keep winning. I just…I don’t know…” He looked up at Rey. “Sometimes I think I should be more like that. Go ahead and chase after the good things…what I want…rather than keep lying in wait. Because that’s what I’m doing, what I’ve BEEN doing. I’m not AFRAID to go after what I want. I’m not running behind or running late. I’m just…waiting for the right moment. Waiting for…” Aaron ran his hands over his face. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.”

Rey stared at Aaron for a long while. Then she set her glass down and moved closer to Aaron.

“My parents abandoned me when I was very young,” she began. “Young enough that I don’t remember them…or anything from my life before Jakku, really. I just remember them leaving me. And I always thought…always believed…that there was a reason they left me there. That they would come back for me when the time was right. I didn’t understand, but I was willing to wait. Weeks passed…months passed…years passed…and I was still waiting. But I knew there was a reason I got left on that…junkyard of a planet.”

She paused, looking down for a moment. Aaron’s eyes never left her, and inwardly, he wondered how she just…got it.

“I thought maybe Finn was that reason. And then…EVERYTHING sort of happened which led me to Luke Skywalker, so…then I thought HE was the reason…but then I came here…”

She looked up at him.

“I don’t know why I was sent here…and why I saw your face and heard your name…but the more I get to know you, I find myself not really caring so much about the reasoning anymore because…I know you now. And maybe that’s enough.”

Her shoulder was pressed against his as they sat side by side, looking at each other. Probably the closest they’d ever sat…at least, this felt the closest.

“Do you still wish you were back home?” Aaron asked. Rey glanced down for just a moment before she was looking at Aaron again. God, her eyes…

“It’s funny…my first night here, you said that maybe I’d wake up and find this was all just a dream,” she said. “And I kind of hoped that was the case because…stranger in a strange land and all that.”

“And you still hope you’ll wake up and find this was a dream.”

“…less hope, more…I’m afraid. I mean…yes, I want to be home. I want to know if Finn’s…alive, awake, okay, if Poe’s been taking care of him, if Luke is…I don’t know…but…” She seemed to steel herself with a deep breath. “I’m afraid to wake up because then it means you were a dream the whole time. And I don’t know if I could take that.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t want you to be a dream, Aaron.”

It was the second time she’d ever said his given name, and it had never sounded as sweet.

Maybe it was the drink, maybe it was just being foolish, maybe it was just having grown tired of waiting, but…he could not help but reach out for that one loose strand of hair that always escaped the hair ribbon and tucked it behind her ear. His fingertips brushed against her cheek, and he heard her breath catch. Emboldened, he extended his reach so that he cupped her cheek with his hand. Her skin was rough, chilled from the winter air, but growing warm from his touch; her breath puffed against his palm.

“Can you feel that?” he asked. “Does that feel real?”

“I…yes.”

She sounded shaky. Unsure. Hesitantly, she reached up to touch the hand cradling his face. Her fingers trailed over his knuckles, the top of his hand, his wrist, before settling over it, keeping his palm against her skin, as though assuring her he was here.

“Am I real, Aaron?”

“Yes,” he said at once. Rey nodded slightly, her eyes still unsure.

She glanced down at his hand, and she turned her head a bit. And she slowly, so very softly, pressed a kiss to his palm. Featherlight. So fleeting one could have dreamt it.

“Just in case…” she whispered, not looking up at him. As if afraid. Afraid she’d just overstepped a boundary. (In society’s eyes, she had. But society be damned.)

Aaron ran his thumb under her eye, as though wiping away a tear. Instinctively, she looked back up at him. He didn’t know what she saw when she looked at him. It was hopefully something good. Something she wanted to see. She wasn’t backing away as he found himself leaning in closer. And maybe he was imagining, maybe was hoping, but it seemed like she was leaning in too. The tip of her nose brushed against his. Her eyes fluttered shut. He could feel her breath on his lips, he was so close…they were so close…

“Burr?”

In the blink of an eye, Rey was on her side of the tent. Aaron’s hand dropped.

As the tent flapped open with the assistance of someone’s hand, he stood. A figure peeked in.

“General,” Aaron greeted Charles Lee.

“May I have a word, Burr?” Lee said. Aaron glanced at the piece of paper in Lee’s hand, wondering what this was about.

“Of course, sir,” Aaron said. Lee nodded as Aaron exited the tent. Lee turned towards Rey and nodded with a smile.

“Sorry to steal him from you, Miss…”

“Rey, General,” she said, forcing a smile. “It’s no trouble. I was just getting ready to sleep.”

“Well, don’t worry, I’ll have Burr back before dawn,” Lee said jovially. Again, a forced smile from Rey. A nod. She glanced behind Lee at Aaron. When Lee turned to properly exit the smile was gone.

Before the tent fell, Aaron swore he saw regret in her eyes. As he followed Lee, he wondered if it was regret for something that had happened…or if it was for something that HADN’T happened.

***

Duels were dumb and immature.

Said thought was also dumb and immature, but Aaron thought it nonetheless, as medics took a bleeding and whining Charles Lee away, and Washington demanded Hamilton meet him in his quarters. (Laurens had been the one to shoot Lee, but everyone and their dog knew Hamilton was the one behind the duel.)

Lee rasped out a last “thank you” to Aaron as he was escorted by the medics. The corner of Aaron’s mouth quirked. Was the thank you for being his second in this (ridiculous absurd) duel, or for applying pressure to Lee’s wound with his now-stained shirt. He looked down at said shirt and groaned. He only had so many decent shirts left and good shirts were hard to come by.

“Aaron?!”

His head whipped up at the cry of his name. At rapidly approaching footsteps.

Rey was running towards him from a nearby fence, her eyes wide with anguish. Her quarterstaff, which had been in her hand, feel loosely from limp fingers as she approached.

“Who did this to you? Why—how—what–?”

“Rey, I’m not hurt,” Aaron said, taking her hands, squeezing them reassuringly. “It’s Lee.”

“You…you’re all right?” Rey asked.

“Yes, I am.”

Before he could explain further, Rey had thrown her arms around his neck. At once, his arms wrapped around her waist and he held her close.

“I woke up and you still weren’t back so I got up to go look for you and I saw all the blood and I thought—”

“I’m all right. I’m right here.”

Rey pulled away and took his face in her hands, her eyes darting up and down as though making sure that every part of him was there, uninjured. He rested his hands over hers, running his thumbs up and down the sides of her hands. She looked torn between crying and laughing..

“What happened?” she finally asked.

“Laurens challenged General Lee to a duel,” Aaron said. “I was his second. Laurens shot him in the side; I tried to stop the bleeding.”

“I don’t—”

Rey paused at the sound of voices raising from Washington’s quarters.

“Who’s in there with the general?” Rey asked.

“Hamilton,” Aaron. “Laurens’ second. And…let’s face it, he’d have shot Lee himself if he could.”

“…more than willing to die!” Hamilton’s voice rose further. Rey’s eyes were wide, and she looked slightly panicked.

“Your wife needs you alive, son…!” Washington’s voice seeped through the wood. And then:

“CALL ME SON ONE MORE TIME!”

Rey bolted away from Aaron towards the general’s quarters. Aaron followed, calling her name in a question as she flung the door open

“GENERAL!”

Hamilton jumped away from Washington; up until Rey’s interruption, he’d been inches away from Washington’s face post-yelling. His eyes still blazed with anger. Washington was as calm and unflinching as ever, though he did turn to look at the two who had just entered his quarters.

“Rey?” he asked.

“Are you hurt, General?” she asked, poised to fight, if needed.

“Why would I be in harm’s way?”

“I heard raised voices, sir, and—”

“I didn’t hurt the General,” Hamilton snapped. “Why would I?”

“In her defense, you WERE speaking loud enough for us to hear you through closed doors,” Aaron said.

“Shut up, Burr!” Hamilton sneered.

“Hamilton,” Washington said sternly. By now, Rey’s fighting stance had dropped, her eyes on the ground, head slightly bowed.

“My apologies, general,” Rey said quietly. “I thought…” Her eyes flickered from Hamilton to Washington. “It’s just the last time I was in the presence of an altercation between a young man and a father figure, it ended in the father’s death at the hand of the young man.” Washington’s face softened the slightest bit.

“He’s not my father figure,” Hamilton spat, utterly unsympathetic. “And do you really think I’m so hot-blooded that I’d kill someone in COLD blood?” Aaron rolled his eyes at the comment that was almost like wit.

“Forgive me for thinking history was about to repeat itself and wanting to prevent that from happening,” Rey’s eyes were on Washington as she spoke, but her voice grew enough for those in the room to know that the words were aimed at Hamilton.

“Yeah, well, you’re not from here,” Hamilton sneered, “so you’d do well enough to remember that not everything here is as awful as whatever hell you fell from.”

“ENOUGH, Hamilton,” Washington ordered. “Out. Now. All of you.” Hamilton stormed out. Rey made to follow, but paused when she reached Aaron. At the sound of Washington saying her name. She turned.

“Thank you,” was all the general said to her. She nodded. Aaron touched her arm and she turned back to him. They walked out of Washington’s quarters and shut the door gently behind them.

As soon as they were out, Hamilton made a beeline for Rey.

“I was not about to kill the general, and you know it,” he began.

“I DIDN’T know it, though,” Rey interrupted. “You sounded angry enough to have done.”

“I’m NOT the man who killed your father, and I resent being grouped up with him.”

“He wasn’t my father,” Rey said harshly. “I hadn’t even known him a full week…but…he started to feel like one.” She paused. “I watched his son stab him in the chest and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I couldn’t let that something like that happen again.”

“You hadn’t even known the man a WEEK, and you were mourning him?” Alex’s tone was nasty and mean. “How desperate were you for a father?”

“Hamilton, you go too far,” Aaron warned, his tone cold.

“Burr, really? THIS is the girl you’re half gone for?” Hamilton continued, a derisive laugh punctuating the remark.

“Do you know who that son was?” Rey asked almost hissing. “The one who I saw murder his father? He was a monster. The monster I fought and left bloodied and scarred.”

“Oh, so you’re calling me a MONSTER now, is that it?” Hamilton asked, not thrown off by her in the slightest. “Am I supposed to be scared of you?”

Rey’s eyes had grown harder and colder and fiercer through this whole exchange. Her fists clenched and unclenched. Her shoulders tensed.

Without looking, she reached out towards her quarterstaff, which lay uselessly on the ground feet away. Aaron barely avoided being hit by the staff as it flew through the air into Rey’s outstretched hand. Hamilton had barely made a sound before Rey had pinned him against the trunk of a tree, pressing her staff against his torso, at a diagonal so some of the staff jabbed into his neck. She leaned in and whispered through clenched teeth.

“I’m not from here. You would do well enough to remember that.”

As soon as it had happened, she had backed off, leaving Hamilton leaning against the tree, hand at his throat, eyes wide and watery and horrified.

“…Rey?”

Her name was a question on Aaron’s lips. She looked over at him. She looked as surprised as he felt. She glanced down at the quarterstaff in her hands, then over to where it had been laying on the ground, a minute’s walk away. She looked back over at Hamilton…

…and she raised one hand. Hamilton’s posture straightened. His eyes went blank, his face neutral.

“You will forget this happened,” she said. “You will go home to your wife. The general ordered you to do so.”

A long moment. Rey’s hand did not lower; her focus did not waver.

“You will forget this happened. You will go home to your wife. The general ordered you to do so.”

Another long moment. Aaron watched her, a storm of feelings inside of him at what he had just and was still witnessing.

Hamilton blinked. Shook his head a little bit.

“…I need to go home,” he said. “General’s orders.”

Without another word to either Rey or Aaron, he turned and walked in, presumably, the direction that would lead him home. Rey’s arm and hand dropped. She stared at…nothing, it seemed. As though in her own trance.

“Rey?” Aaron asked again, stepping forward, even though he was almost afraid to do so. “…Rey, are you…?”

Rey’s eye’s rolled back in her head as her body slumped. She would have hit the ground had Aaron’s reflexes not been as quick as they were. He picked her up carefully and quickly got her back to the tent.

Once in the tent, he laid her down and felt for fever. For a pulse. For any sign that she’d been stricken with something that would have caused her to collapse in such a way. But everything seemed normal. She was breathing. Her heart was beating. Her skin wasn’t clammy, chilled, feverish.

So what had happened?

…a good question for the events just witnessed.

WHAT HAD HAPPENED?

Before he could dwell on them too much, Rey’s eyes fluttered open, and she gasped. A quick little surprised gasp that one gives when being awoken too quickly.

“Rey.” Aaron was right at her side again, helping her sit up. “Rey, what…?”

“The Force,” she whispered. She stared down at her hands. “I thought…Luke…”

“Rey…”

She looked at him.

“I…I didn’t…”

“…know you could do that?”

“…I thought I’d lost it. The Force.” She sounded shocked and slightly scared. But there was also a glimmer of hope and happiness in her voice. “It was why I was going to Luke. Having the Force, just learning of it and…seeking the knowledge to use it better. Because I’d JUST learned I had it, knew very little of how it should be used, how it should be controlled, IF it should be controlled.”

“What is this…force?” Aaron asked.

“The Force…it’s like…all living things create it. It surrounds everything. It binds everything together. Some people…some people can feel it. Sense it. Use it. You can…call objects to you.”

The staff.

“You can…trick someone’s mind. Get them to do something without them knowing they’re being tricked.”

Hamilton.

“You can…force yourself into someone’s mind to get information out of them.”

Torture. Her own.

“I thought I’d lost The Force when I came here. I couldn’t sense it like I had before. I couldn’t…call things to me. So…I figured it was gone. Maybe it had just been a fluke, maybe it was this planet, this part of the galaxy…”

Rey rubbed her temple.

“I don’t know why. Why that moment. But I knew…I knew somehow I’d gotten it back. I just didn’t know why.” She looked at Aaron. “And then I head Luke’s voice.”

She blinked fast, as though about to cry.

“I’m going back. He’s found a way to get me back home.”

***

Aaron penned letters that night as he heard Rey behind him preparing to return home. Tried to focus on the words he was writing. Not the sounds of uniform being shed, her own clothes going back on. Not her pulling her hair back as it had been when she’d first arrived. Not the scratch of her own pen as she wrote the false letter – she’d heard from her brother, he was well, and she was to return home as quickly as possible, no time to say goodbye or thank anyone.

“I’m ready,” she finally said after far too much silence. Aaron set his pen down and stood.

“Where are you supposed to meet him?” Aaron asked.

“He just said outside,” Rey said. “Under the stars.” Aaron nodded.

“Do you…need me to come with you?” he asked, hopeful. Rey shook her head.

“He said alone.”

“All right.”

A pause.

“…I’ll write to you,” he said.

“I can’t get your letters,” she said, voice choked with a mix between laughter and suppressed tears.

“I’ll still write. Maybe…maybe with your Force, you’ll be able to sense what I’m trying to say.” A watery laugh escaped her. “I don’t know if that’s how The Force works, but…it’s worth a shot.” She nodded.

Aaron reached for something he’d hidden beneath his stacks of papers.

“This is for you,” he said, pressing something into her hand before she could see it. She opened her palm. Inside it was a small silver ring. “It had been my mother’s.” She looked up at him. “If you wake up when you’re home and you still have that ring…this wasn’t a dream. It was real. I’m real.”

In the blink of an eye, she was hugging him, and he held her as tight as he could. She was shaking, but not crying. Holding the tears back, instead just clutching at his jacket, his black jacket, the one he’d been wearing when they first met.

“I’ll come back to you,” she whispered, her breath hot against his neck. “I promise, I will find a way to come back to you, Aaron.”

“Rey…I…” He pulled away enough to look at her. He wanted to look at her when he said it. “You should know…I think I’m—”

“Please not now,” she said, voice trembling, reaching up to hold a finger to his lips. “Not now. …when it’s all over. When it’s behind us, then…”

“When what’s behind us?”

“…your war? My training? I don’t know…” She smiled through unshed tears. “It’s a good line though, isn’t it?” Aaron nodded and smiled though his heart was aching.

She pressed her forehead to his and just…stayed close to him for a few moments.

“I have to leave now,” she said after too short of a time. (Maybe it had been seconds. Maybe it had been minutes. Still too short of a time before saying goodbye.) “…except…”

She looked down at her coat, fiddled around in it for a moment. Aaron thought he heard something snap or rip. When she’d stopped her strange fidgeting, she held something out to him. A small silver button.

“Just in case,” she said, pressing it into his palm. “So you know I wasn’t a dream.”

He wasn’t sure if he moved first or she moved first or if they both moved at once, but it was inevitable that, before she walked away – before they maybe never saw each other again – their lips would meet. That his hand would tangle into her hair and her fingers would splay against his face as she sighed into his mouth. That he would drink in and memorize her feel and her smell and her taste. Light from a sun he’d never seen.

All too soon, the kiss broke. And before it could begin again…before it could become much more than just one kiss…Rey walked out of the tent. Out of Aaron’s life.

All that was left was the last traces of a kiss, a head full of memories, and a small silver button.

The world felt so wide.

***

Dearest Rey,

I’ve given the general your letter. He was surprised at your so-sudden departure, but understanding. Laurens, Lafayette, and Mulligan possessed a fleeting regret. The kind where one says “Oh, that’s too bad”, and promptly returns to whatever they were doing without another thought. Hamilton only regrets having to tell his wife the news.

I’ve fashioned your button into a lapel pin. I wear it close to my chest. I shall always.

You’ve been gone barely a day. It always feels a lifetime. Still…take your time. Do not try and rush back to me if you are needed there, for one thing or a great many things. I’m a patient man. I’m willing to wait for you.

(That said…I cannot wait to see you again. It’s only a matter of time.)

***

Dearest Rey,

The war is over. One last battle in Yorktown, and the world turned upside down, and suddenly it was over. We’ve won.

Hamilton finally got his command. As much as it pains me to say it, Yorktown would not have been half as successful without his ingenuity and cunning.

I hope, if there is war where you are, it is over and over soon. I hope Luke is treating you well. I hope your friend Finn has recovered. I hope you still hold my ring.

***

Dear Rey,

Giving you this news feels like a betrayal of sorts. In my heart, at least, it feels like a betrayal.

I am now a married man.

A friend and confidante, Theodosia Prevost, approached me with the offer. Her husband had recently perished in the last vestiges of the war, and she’d not long after learned she was with child. She came to me, frightened for her future, for the future of her child, saying she knew I was a man of honor, and could I please help her.

She would rather enter into a loveless marriage with a friend, she said, than a loveless marriage with a stranger. We hold a great deal of affection for each other – just not of a romantic sense.

She has an idea of you, in that, she knows there is someone I write to late at night when she knows I think she’s asleep. She is not bothered or threatened by it. My heart is mine to give to whomever I please. She holds no claim over it.

(Actually, she says she’d rather like to meet you. Not specifically you, but whoever is the keeper of her husband’s heart. If only to tell them that should you be cruel to me, she will rain down wrath the likes of which the earth has never seen.)

(She’s a very protective sort.)

***

Dear Rey,

I’m a father.

Theodosia’s child has been born. A girl. Named after her mother, taking much after her as well.

I may not be her father by blood, but my heart was half hers the moment I saw her.

Rey, I wish you could see my little Theo. Maybe you can. But Rey, she has the biggest, most expressive eyes, always looking around, curious about everything. She reaches up and grabs at my lapel pin and gives me the biggest smiles and I am utterly lost to her.

I cannot wait for you to meet her.

***

Dearest Rey,

If ever a man was more insufferable than Alexander Hamilton, he may have a good competitor in Thomas Jefferson.

Watching them battle in cabinet meetings is like watching two outraged, outrageous egos clash against one another. I did not think anyone could get under Hamilton’s skin like that, but Jefferson managed it.

I’m still trying to decide whether you’d hate Jefferson or if you’d want to be friends with him.

***

Dearest Rey,

My daughter has become rather curious about you.

One recent night, as I was writing a letter to you, little Theo came into the room. She’d had a bad dream and came to wake me up and tell me about it. But upon the sight of me at my desk, she grew confused and wondered why I wasn’t asleep. I explained I was writing a letter to a friend. That, at the time, seemed to satisfy her, and after checking for monsters and the singing of many lullabies, she was back in bed.

Through the week, she asked more about the friend to whom I was writing. If you wrote back. Why you didn’t write back. Why I never seemed to send any of your letters out. If you were even real. If not, why I was writing to someone who isn’t real.

I simply said you were unable to write to me, and that if I tried to send letters to you, they would get lost. But one day, you would come to visit, and the letters would be there waiting, so you could know everything that happened while you were gone.

She still thinks the concept is “rather silly”, but if writing the letters makes me happy, then she is happy. (The caveat is that I not stay up TOO terribly late writing to you, as fathers need their sleep, too. She worries so.)

***

Dearest Rey,

Please allow me to be selfish for just a little while. To wish for your Force.

Because I know of no other way to find out just what happened in that room.

Hamilton, Jefferson, and Madison all walked into a room. Two opposing forces. A dinner. They walk out. Hamilton’s financial system gains the support it needs; in return, the capital city moves to the Southern states.

How can three men hold such power? What happened? What other deals were made, if any? Was President Washington aware of this?

…Rey, am I no better than Hamilton if I envy that power? For wanting to be one of those men making such decisions for the betterment of the country?

Because I want that. I want to be in that room.

I said once I wondered what it was like in Hamilton’s shoes. I guess I’m about to find out.

Please don’t think less of me for it.

***

Dearest Rey,

The man writing this letter is the newest senator from New York.

I put my bid in against Philip Schuyler and I won.

I took a shot, and it paid off.

You may recognize the last name “Schuyler” from three sisters you once knew. Indeed, Philip is their father.

Hamilton is treating my win as a personal attack against him because I bested his father-in-law and changed political parties in order to do so. (If I were a worse man, I would throw the Compromise back in his face – surely what he did to get his financial system safely in place went beyond changing parties.)

This world does not revolve around Hamilton. He may feel it should but it does not.

***

Dearest Rey,

Some nights I do not know what to write. So I step on to the balcony and look up at the stars. I wonder which is yours. Where you are in the mass of them.

I wonder if you do the same. If you’ve forgotten me. If you decided I was no longer worth dwelling on. If it’s pointless to hope for a reunion.

I still see your distant smile sometimes when I close my eyes.

Above all, I hope you are well and that you are still alive.

***

Dear Rey,

Pride goeth before a fall, and Hamilton is teetering on the edge of said fall.

We – that is, Jefferson, Madison, and I – have evidence that Hamilton has been embezzling American funds, sending regular payments to a Mr. James Reynolds over a period of time that spans YEARS.

Is this why he was so adamant that his financial system succeed? Does he think that as the Secretary of the Treasury, he is allowed to do what he wants with the country’s money? Not his OWN money?

With John Adams as our new president, Hamilton no longer has Washington to come to his defense. We approach Hamilton tomorrow with what we know.

I wish you could be here for the fall.

***

Dear Rey,

It’s worse than expected. Better and worse.

Hamilton was not embezzling funds. He was being blackmailed by James Reynolds. Because Reynolds caught Hamilton in an amorous affair with Maria. His wife.

We all took Hamilton at his word and walked away with more knowledge than we wanted of the shambles of his personal life. But then it got worse.

Hamilton, seemingly obsessed with the legacy of his name to the point of paranoia, must have concluded that we would still tell the world of his affair.

So he did it himself, in the form of The Reynolds Pamphlet.

Detailed accounts of his meetings with Miss Reynolds, at his OWN house, when his wife and children were out of town.

All to prove that he was not embezzling government funds. In safeguarding his legacy, he’s destroyed his good reputation and possibly his marriage.

I cannot imagine what Eliza must be feeling. What this must be doing to her.

I cannot imagine what your reaction would be to this news. …I can, but too many possibilities. And years have passed. Who knows how much you have changed from the Rey I once knew?

***

Dear Rey,

Theodosia passed away not three hours ago.

Cancer of the stomach. She was no longer in pain, for which I am grateful. I stayed by her side through the last of it.

I was not in love with her. I was never in love with her. And she never with me. We knew that from the start. But she was my friend. Probably my dearest friend in this city. And I feel the pangs of her loss begin to settle. In that way, I supposed I loved her.

In her own way, she loved me, she said. We had a good run, didn’t we? Some fun, didn’t we? She told me not to mourn her too much. To give Theo her best.

How do I tell Theo? She still sleeps. She will wake up tomorrow and I will have to make this one of the worst days of her life. I don’t know how to face it. What to say. What to do if she hates me, declares she will for as long as she lives.

(My apologies for this letter being hard to read. I cannot seem to stop crying.)

***

Dearest Rey,

The Hamiltons suffer a loss and live with a pain I would not wish on anyone.

Their son, Philip, is dead at the age of only nineteen. He was shot in a duel and succumbed to his wounds. He died defending his father’s name.

I hold my Theo as tight as I can until she tells me I’m crushing her. I cannot stop telling her how much I love her. She will never know just what I would do to shield her from the evils of this world.

No parent should have to bury a child. It is a grief I cannot imagine.

***

Dearest Rey,

It feels like forever since I have had a chance to write to you.

There really are no excuses for my negligence in this, but the excuse I do have to give is an important one.

I have been openly campaigning to become the next President of this nation. Adams losing is all but guaranteed (he has a reputation for being obnoxious and disliked). Jefferson has the credentials, having been Secretary of State and currently being our Vice President. That said, he can come off as elitist. With an open approach – going door to door, speaking to the people, shaking hands, doling out the charm – I could win. My chances feel very good.

I am cautiously optimistic that I could win this.

***

Rey,

It came down to Hamilton. Somehow, it always comes down to Hamilton.

Jefferson and I were basically tied for the presidency. And the public turned to Hamilton for his opinion.

His words?

“Jefferson has beliefs. Burr has none. Jefferson gets my vote.”

Jefferson wins. As runner-up, I become his vice president. Jefferson wants nothing to do with me and will not entrust me with anything.

Hamilton and Jefferson have been at each other’s throats since the day they met. They have never agreed on a single issue. And yet he still chooses Jefferson.

I am convinced this was to slight me. To spite me.

He has never respected me. Not in my beliefs. Not in my strategies. Not in the affection I held for you.

I have had just about enough of Alexander Hamilton for one lifetime.

***

My dearest, Rey,

This may be my last letter to you.

I challenged Hamilton to a duel. Weehawken. Dawn.

It’s still dark outside as I write this. The other letters to be carried out in the event of my death have been written, and rest sealed next to my hand.

I will leave for my fate with your pin nestled against my heart, which carries, and has always carried, the memory of you.

So many years have passed since you left. Since I have seen you. Heard you. Touched you. Enough time has passed that perhaps you could have been considered a dream.

If so. you were my best dream.

My one regret – my largest regret – in my life is never telling you. Never professing my love for you. I remember trying. It was there on my tongue. And you said “Not now. When it’s all over.”

All may be over for me.

I should not have listened. I should have told you. I should have gotten on my knees that minute and asked you for your hand and for your love.

But I listened. And I loved in silence. And you returned home. And now, I stand at death’s door.

Rest assured, I will take my best aim. I will not let Hamilton make an orphan of my daughter – not without fighting. There are, however, no guarantees that all will go well. If I am to die, it will be with as few regrets as I can manage.

And so, most wonderful impossible breathtaking Rey, I profess that I love you. I was so badly in love with you, and I have never stopped being in love with you. Even knowing I would probably never see you again, I foolishly continued to love you.

Whether I live another fifty years without seeing you again, or whether I live another few hours, I will die having loved you.

I cannot wait to see you again. In this life or the next.

I love you, Rey.

Yours always,

Aaron Burr

***

All signs pointed to Hamilton taking his shot. His glasses. The way he kept checking his gun, the trigger, the safety. His intensity and uncharacteristic silence.

All signs pointed to Aaron’s death.

He took his ten paces. Summoned all his courage. Turned. Looked Hamilton in the eye.

In his mind, he sent one more I love you to the sky. To Rey. Whereever she was.

He aimed his pistol at Hamilton’s heart and fired.

Hamilton aimed his pistol at the sky and fired, throwing away his shot.

…he aimed his pistol at the SKY.

“WAIT!”

Hamilton’s body jolted. A look of cold shock went over his face.

He looked down. For blood, for pain, to find none.

The bullet had stopped.

Stopped in mid-air. Inches away from Hamilton’s ribs.

Hamilton stared at the bullet unbelievingly.

Burr almost couldn’t believe it. Believe in some force that could stop a bullet in mid-air. But it dawned on him that such a Force did exist…

From a distance, the grass crunched beneath someone’s feet. The crunching grew closer. Hamilton looked first…and his expression was that of someone who’d seen a ghost.

Burr turned his head to see who he knew (he hoped) it was.

There, walking towards the two, arm outstretched, hand flexed, a silver ring on one finger, was…

“Rey.”

Hamilton sounded a name he hadn’t spoken in years. The name of a woman he’d either completely forgotten about or denied all existence of.

She said nothing as she continued her approach. Just unflexed her hand to release the bullet. It dropped to the ground, now harmless.

By this point, the doctor and the seconds had turned to find out the results of the duel, and were puzzled as to why a woman in strange garb was approaching. Their queries began to turn to shouts as they all approached her.

She simply held up one hand…and they all grew silent. Eyes glazed over.

“You will forget a woman was present at these grounds,” she said, waving her hand slightly as she spoke. “Hamilton and Burr both aimed for the sky. The duel came to a standstill, neither willing to shoot first. They then lowered their weapons, discussed the issue, and came to the conclusion that duels are DUMB AND IMMATURE.” A pause. “You will then forget this duel ever happened.”

Her hand dropped. Eyes became vivid again.

As Burr and Hamilton continued to stare at Rey, the other three men, turned their backs and began to leave the grounds, speaking amongst themselves as though nothing had happened.

Burr’s eyes trailed over Rey, his long-lost-to-him Rey.

She’d grown older. But then, so had he. Not aged…not really…but more assured of herself. Stronger. Wiser. Her clothes similar to all those years ago, but different. Her hair, a variant of its three buns. Her eyes as piercing hazel as ever. And aimed at Hamilton.

Hamilton’s eyes looked at nothing in particular. He looked slightly lost. He didn’t look up at Rey as she stepped towards him. Perhaps he thought he didn’t believe she was actually there. Perhaps shock was setting in at how close he’d come to being shot and possibly killed. Perhaps he couldn’t admit to himself that this woman – a woman he’d despised so many years ago – had been the one to save his life.

“Alexander Hamilton,” she said. “Go home.” Her tone was not unkind. But it was firm. No trick hiding in it. Hamilton dared to look up. “Your wife can’t handle another heartbreak.” He nodded dumbly. And half in a daze, he slowly began to walk away from the grounds.

Aaron watched Rey watch Hamilton for the longest time…before she turned to him. And for the longest time, neither of them moved. Neither of them said a word. Just…took in the sight of each other again.

So much to say. So unsure of where to start.

***

Aaron’s hands shook as he reached for his cup to take another sip of tea.

In the other room, Rey was reading his letters. Every letter he’d written to her over the years in which she’d been gone. She’d been at it for almost an hour now.

He couldn’t predict what her reaction would be. He didn’t know what she had to tell him. He didn’t know if she was here to stay or not. If she was here to take him away to her home. How’d she gotten back here in the first place.

The cup clattered slightly against the saucer as he set it back down. The only other sound in the room the clock. He rans hands over a face fraught with anticipation.

Everything was laid out to her in those letters. His mantra had always been to talk less and smile more. But to Rey, he was unafraid to talk. To say what he really needed to say, lest it fester within him. Every scrap of his life hidden from the world, bare for her to see. Ending with one possibly-last half-anguished declaration.

The door opened. Aaron turned to see Rey walk in. Her face unreadable. He made to stand, but halted at a slight gesture from her. He sat back down.

She walked over and sat in the chair next to him. He waited for her to speak.

She did not speak.

Instead, she raised her hands and gently, almost feather-lightly, pressed her fingers to his temples. Her eyes were questioning. Nervous. Full of trepidations.

He nodded. Whatever she intended to do…if she was going to use the Force on him somehow…he trusted her. Completely.

She nodded back. A small, nervous smile, for a split second.

Then her eyes closed. His eyes closed.

And behind closed eyes, he saw everything.

He saw her fall into his vision, from a great distance, it seemed. Hands splaying across the flat rock of the ground as she landed. Sudden, frantic gasps as she looked about her. Looking down at her hands…at the silver ring around one of her fingers…

Her attire…her hair…this was the moment she’d returned from his home to hers. Thrown right back in, with no time on her side having passed at all, in the months she was with him.

He wasn’t guessing this. He just knew. It was like he was thinking what she was thinking at that time.

He saw her past. Flashes of a young girl in a desert, screaming to the skies for her parents. Figures and transportation alien and new to him.

He saw Finn and Poe, Finn’s meeting Rey, his interactions with her, how she and Poe came to meet, how much closer Finn and Poe grew. He saw the monster who invaded Rey’s mind. He felt her pain at the invasion. At the loss of the father that never was, at the hands of the monster, running him through with a blade made of red light. He saw Rey and the monster fight in the snow, red clashing against blue, blue prevailing, the angry red of new scars.

He saw Luke. Rey reaching out to Luke.

He saw everything that followed. What became of Finn and Poe and Luke and everyone. What happened with the monster. How the monster was not really a monster, but a man tearing between dark and light and in his own great deal of pain at the struggle. He saw Rey’s parents. What happened to them. Why they left her.

He saw everything that stretched beyond that.

And through it all, he felt her sensing…he saw her smile at the swell of pride and joy one felt at the sight of your newborn child. He watched her pause and jolt in a sudden pain, hand over heart, grief beyond imagine of losing your child. All right around the instances, the incidents, of which he wrote to her.

He watched her fiddling with his ring, wearing it on her finger, sometimes in a chain around her neck. Pangs of a distant fondness every time she considered it. Staring up at the stars as she clutched the ring tight, pressed it against her heart.

Demanding of Luke why she was sent to Aaron if only to be ripped away from him. What was the point of it all? Would she ever get back to him? If so, when? Was this some sick part of her training – teach her how to love, only to take it away? Because she never got to tell him and she should have told him.

Goodbyes to a great many people as she finally set out to the man she’d given her heart to a number of years ago. A man from a world distant and mostly unfamiliar. But so long as he was there, was a home of sorts…

Oh, I cannot wait to see you again…

…and upon arrival, reaching out with The Force to sense him…sensing the duel…following the pull of The Force…and there he was. Gun in hand. Pacing away from an older and greyer Hamilton, the intent to kill radiating off of him, the worry that a still-grieving, still-learning-to-forgive wife felt, even in sleep…

…and she reached out to save two men from themselves.

Aaron blinked back into the room. Rey’s eyes opened.

The air was heavy with memories, thoughts, feelings, shared histories.

Rey’s hands moved from his temples, her fingers running over his face, tracing features, maybe just reveling in the feel of him again, settling at his neck, resting her forehead against his. He reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair back, and his palm drunk in the warmth of her skin once more as he cupped her cheek. She turned her head to press her lips against his hand as she had so many years ago. Longer, this time. Not as hesitant.

There was so much still unsaid. But despite that, it didn’t seem the time to talk.

He didn’t say he loved her. He didn’t have to. With the thought in his head, she smiled at him.

She knew.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback welcome and appreciated.


End file.
